ABC's
by LindaL24
Summary: Just a little dinnertime tension with the Eppes men.


Title:ABC's of the Eppes Household

Author:LindaL24

Disclaimer:I don't own NUMB3RS…although I'd **definitely** be willing to make an offer on Charlie.

AN:This is my first NUM3RS fic. I picture this as early season one. Charlie's not as sure of himself here and he and Don are sort of testing the waters.

AN # 2:Fraidy Cat posted a story set up like this one time and called it "an alphabet challenge on steroids" - each paragraph starting with progressive letters. Anyway…Fraidy Cat said to "try it." So I thought I would. I was having a hard time getting a NUMB3RS story going, so I thought maybe the alphabet thing would help me get it jump-started.

Any way...on with the story.

Alan Eppes loved nothing more than a quiet dinner with both of his sons. Hectic lives were temporarily put on hold for good food and good company. Those same hectic lives were what made these nights so special. Usually. Tonight, though, it seemed as if Alan was destined to play the peace-maker. Not that it was nothing new. He'd often had to mediate between his sons. It was only natural. Both boys were strong willed, opinionated and stubborn to the core. He'd like to blame it all on his dear, departed wife, but he was afraid that last trait was laid at his own doorstep.

Be that as it may, he could never remember a time when a referee was needed more than now. Quiet reined supreme over the table, but it seemed so strained it was almost deafening. Alan thought for sure he'd heard himself blink a moment ago.

Charlie seemed nervous skittish even and had developed a sudden fascination in the flatware on the dining room table whenever he would sense his brother's eyes rest on him. Alan got the distinct impression that his youngest wanted to be anywhere but at this table right about now. Oh, he'd been polite, as usual, muttering a quiet "It's good, Dad…thanks." Of course, Alan wasn't sure how the boy would even know he'd barely touched the food on his plate. That's Charlie. His appetite was always the first thing to suffer.

Don's mood could only be summed up as 'quiet fury'. Alan could see the tight jaw muscles flexing and thought he'd probably be able to hear his teeth grinding, if he listened close enough. Don had no problem staring down his brother and even appeared to be basking in the fact that he was making the younger man so uncomfortable.

"Everything OK?" Alan figured he had nothing to lose by throwing caution to the wind. Besides he was the father here. He could always pull rank if things went sour.

"Fine." Don's one word response spoke volumes. It was just loud enough to convey anger but the delivery was cold enough to freeze water.

"…great…he's still pissed…" barely a breath escaped Charlie's lips as he spoke. Alan wasn't even sure if Charlie had meant for Don to hear him but hear him he did.

"Hell, yes, I'm pissed, Charlie! What did you expect?" Don's fist slammed down on the table, rattling the water glasses.

"…I…I…just didn't think…"

"Just like always! You. Didn't. Think! You know, for someone who's supposed to be a freakin' genius, you can sure pull some bone-headed stunts sometimes!" Don's words exploded the last few spoken at volcanic level.

"Knock it off, Donnie." Alan knew how quickly words of anger could get out of hand. Hurtful words flung like arrows. Words that once they hit their target could never be taken back.

"…let me try to explain…" Charlie seemed to be attempting some sort of damage control, but Alan wasn't sure now was the time to approach Don.

"Maybe you just need to not talk to me right now!" Yep…Alan was right.

"No! Maybe y-you just n-need to listen to me right now. You do this all the t-time." Alan's heart went out to his little one. Charlie could talk a blue streak about prime numbers, probability theories and convergences in front of a convention at Madison Square Garden, but let the poor boy confront his big brother and old demons like stuttering would reappear.

"Only you would try to turn this around on me. Try to make it look like it's my fault." Don pushed his chair away from the table and tossed his napkin down. The gauntlet had been thrown.

"…please, Don…j-just…" Charlie could feel the panic attack building and he was not going to let his brother see him break. Lord knows, Don and his father treated him as if he were made of glass sometimes. This was exactly what he didn't need right now. He lowered his head, squeezing his eyes shut, willing himself to calm down.

"Quit with the hurt puppy crap, Charlie. You were in the wrong and you know it. You're lucky I don't pull your consultant tag right now. I can easily request another consultant, you know…you're not the only…" Don suddenly seemed to deflate as he slipped quietly back into his chair, the logic of his anger slamming into his head. He continued, his voice much quieter. "I can get another consultant, Charlie…but I can't get another…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. It was just unimaginable.

Reality had set in.

Silence loomed over the table once again. But unlike the awkwardness of before, Alan felt a peace settle over his boys.

The older boy looked at his younger brother. Visions of things going down differently swam through his head. Visions that made the lump in his throat plunge to the pit of his stomach. The younger boy felt that he had, once again, managed to disappoint the one person in the world that he wanted to impress more than anyone.

Ultimately, things returned to normal.

Voices that were earlier harsh and angry became caring and warm.

What had they been arguing about again???

"X-rays show a clean break?" Alan gingerly lifted Charlie's left wrist, encased in plaster, wincing in sympathy as his son hissed at the movement.

"Yes." Charlie whispered. As the pain subsided, his voice became stronger and he smiled as he continued. "It could have been much worse, but Don managed to shove his bone-headed little brother out of the way in time."

"Zip it, Chuck. Us big, tough FBI agents don't like all the hype."

01/14/07


End file.
